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HOME SWEET HELL
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SHES STRONG, BUT SHES EXHAUSTED
( * - abuse )
-THE DIFFUSED LIGHT OF a darkened sky hovered above the three as they stepped onto the Express, and by the time the train had set off, water droplets were beginning to hit the misty windows of their compartment. It was supposed to be a sunny day, Marella had been content with that, but as the rain dropped, she felt a plague of dread creep over her - knowing her parents constant squabble over the weather would not be avoided this year. So she bundled her legs up onto the seat, spreading them across the lap of her best friend as she wrapped her arms around her body - now covered by Oscar's lined hoodie.
She wanted to pitch into the conversation, to join in on the mundane topics arising between her friends, but she couldn't. Every time her lips opened, she was met with no words, her voice proven to be useless. Marella didn't want to go home, that was a given, but she knew that by enjoying herself, the ride would brisk by - and she didn't want it to, she wanted to stay in this certain moment forever: her friends letting out loud laughs, Oscar's scent of ochre firewood clashing with Bridget's floral perfume, safety. Here in this cart, she was safe, shielded from the harm of her parents, protected from the outer world.
Marella appeared tough, a mess of fury and anger - intimidating to others. But underneath the shell, a scared girl was there. One who longed to step off the train and be greeted with a candid family, to return to a simple home with neither money or power. But she didn't have this, the universe had placed her within the bricks of a towering manor, and while the walls were graced with sheer gold tapestries and bouquets of hanging roses, behind the dollhouse was a place tainted red.
Maybe it wasn't visible to ones eye, but Marella could see the staining of the house, it's true form. The universe had birthed her into a dynasty, and everyday she would dream of tearing apart her last name, ripping it to utter shreds.
It was midday when they arrived at the platform, and while the students in other cubicles near her buzzed with unfaltering excitement, she slumped further into her seat. The Ravenclaw knew she was the downcast of her friends, but it was hardly her fault. It wasn't like she meant to feel so dull - banausic infact. However, when you're about to walk into the hands of your abusers, you're hardly going to be filled with happiness.
